Old Soldiers Are Hard To Kill
by QuantumMythy
Summary: Commanders Amari and Morrison always dealt with the "Heroes," the strike teams. They led the special forces. Captain Leigh "Lylla" Wynne was the trainer of all men and women of Overwatch- until it fell. It's only until now, during the new Overwatch Recall, that Captain Leigh Tessa Wynne returns with a vengeance- at a very deep personal cost. Nonetheless- there is a war to fight.
1. Chapter 1: Awry Recall

Winston was talking in hushed whispers with Mercy, his only lab companion at the moment. They had been discussing a suit of medium-level armor for the third, and unconsious, person in the room. It was planned to use both old-school exosuits and the nanite-utilizing Valkyrie suit that Mercy wore on the field as reference models.

That immediately paused when Winston perked up, slightly, and turned towards their latest charge, laying on one of the padded cots shoved into the corner of his lab. A small, bucket-sized canister with a faint blue glow around its steel exterior sat next to it, a glowing golden cord extending from its sealed top to the base of the patient's neck, who was beginning to stir.

"She's awake, I think," muttered Angela. It had been some years since she had last considered this woman 'alive,' much less 'awake.'

"She answered the recall, Angela. She's one of us," responded Winston, who knew Angela's concerns about the Captain- someone who had been devout to Overwatch and the world's safety, yet disappeared barely half a week before Overwatch's headquarters fell apart. And whether or not Dr. Ziegler agreed, Winston was in charge of this new Overwatch.

Quietly, Winston padded over to Leigh Wynne's side, staring kindly down at the aging woman as she slowly came to. Then, all of a sudden, the slight shaking of her head and stirring of limbs paused, and Captain Wynne's eyes opened. Piercing violet eyes- a rare mutation in the color of the eye- stared at Winston, and a brief moment of confusion passed over her face.

"Captain Wynne, welcome back to the world of conscious. Do you remember anything?"

There was a moment's hesitation, before Wynne's hoarse whisper replied definitively, "No. The Watchpoint?"

Winston nodded, seeing that she had already determined where they were. "Talon attacked me here, tried to get the database on agent locations. With the second Omnic Crisis, I thought it's time for a Recall of all agents. You were one of the first to respond, and I delegated you to pick up a couple new recruits to the organization on your way in. You were attacked, Wynne. And…"

Angela Ziegler stepped forward as Winston trailed off, leaving the medical details to the medical specialist.

"You broke your neck, Captain. I'm afraid that in order to restore movement to your body- which was paralyzed, by the way, and you very nearly died- I had to implant two titanium vertebrae as replacements in your neck. Nanites now function as the titanium discs' nervous system, since the original connection was broken and irrepairable. If you run out of nanites, you're paralyzed, Captain. It was not a pleasant thing to do, but before you blacked out, you told me to do what needed to be done. I hope you understand." Everyone in the Overwatch of old knew of Wynne's opinion of augments- real soldiers don't need to be enhanced. Real soldiers are trained, not built.

Wynne nodded slightly, from her spot, and winced slightly as she felt something digging into her neck. Cautiously, she raised a hand- one that wasn't shaking, one that responded perfectly normally- and felt around on the back of her neck.

She had a cord sticking out the center of her neck. Turning her head, she could see it out of the corner of her eyes; it ran to a small tank by her bunk. Nanites.

Wynne hadn't cried in over forty years, but this was the first time she felt tears prick her eyes and something akin to grief jolt through her.

"... can I have some time alone. Please."

[][][]

Two days later saw Captain Wynne standing, carefully taking another step. Everything felt stable, strong, sure, like she used to be. She even felt a little younger- like she could jump just a tad higher. She glanced down, below her hospital gown- her right calf and foot were robotic now. Apparently they were crushed; too severely damaged to be salvaged. And Overwatch, ultimately, didn't care if you were broken physically; if you had a mind that was still in the fighting mindset, they'd rebuild you as many times as needed. Leigh just never thought she'd be one of them.

The rest of her was in the best shape she could've hoped for. At age 62, she was getting old. Nevermind the fact that, for all intents and purposes, she appeared to be about 45 years old, or in better shape than people half her age. With midnight hair that's halfway to white, and a face that was as unlined as Ana Amari's, there are many that would say today that she's still quite attractive. A sharp face with piercing violet eyes, and a stature that stood tall, despite her 5' 7", she was the picture of a soldier. There were woman who were wiry, but Wynne was someone who was outright strong and muscled, bearing strong arms, even stronger, more powerful legs, and an amount of body fat that added just a bit more weight to her overall stature. It gave her an advantage when it came to fighting with men- they'd normally think that, beneath a cloak or jacket, she'd be just as easy pickings close range as any other female. Not so- she'd knock the breath out of them and throw them to the side in a heartbeat.

Captain Leigh Tessa "Lylla" Wynne was someone to be reckoned with, and despite her injuries, she was only more determined to keep kicking. The nanites in her system only made her feel stronger, faster, and unknowingly, younger.

[][][]

It took a week before Angela cleared her, citing that she needed to keep a patient for extended observation when trying something completely new- such as Wynne's case.

Two weeks after Leigh Wynne had nearly reached Watchpoint Gibraltar, she finally stepped foot outside the lab. Ana Amari was the first face to greet her, having already been outside the door.

"Lyall, it's so good to see you. So many of us didn't think you'd make it, when we saw you being rushed to Winston and Angela. I'd scold you for giving me that heart attack, showing up nearly dead after the rest of us believing you were dead, but I did the same, so… touche."

Captain Wynne immediately gave the woman a salute while she was talking, which the two-years-younger woman waved off, saying, "Please, stop that nonsense. Winston's in charge here, and the rest of us are all equal. You're my elder, anyhow."

After a moment of contemplation, Wynne nodded, and replied, "Alright, Ana. Fair enough. How is everyone doing? Who's arrived so far?"

Ana just smiled at Wynne's usual attitude, and began walking, escorting Wynne down the hall as she filled her in.


	2. Chapter 2: Of Racing and Resolve

Wynne dropped down at the table, and glanced around. No one else was in the cafeteria. She checked her new watch, courtesy of Overwatch: 7:33 am. Figures that no one would be up yet; Overwatch was still in its early stages of recall, and it was nothing like the more-or-less military organization that it once was. There were only three cooks, one of them being up this early. The man- she'd say he was about thirty or so- eyed her kindly with something like respect and pride. Wynne didn't mind it, and didn't pay it any attention- just thanked the man for the food, and sat down in the middle of the vast room.

Neither did she pay any attention as a few of the other early risers entered, most of them sitting randomly as they dug into whatever it was for breakfast- eggs, or bacon, or pancakes. So it was a surprise to here a sliding, slightly harsh sound approaching, and then a pair of robotic green legs slid around the round seat next to her, and a Brazillian dropped down next to her. With a tray clattered next to her, she finally got a look at the person whom she met up with, escorted, saved, and then forgot about- Lucio.

The Brazillian studied her as intently as she studied him, before he broke out into a wide smile.

"Leigh Tessa Wynne. A pleasure to meet you! I've tried to see you a dozen times already, but it's only now that you've been outside that ape's lap. About time he started sharing!"

Wynne glanced at the DJ, confused. She hadn't met him before, had she? She knew him out of reputation, of course, because he was the famous DJ who turned vigilante against the Vishkar corporation. She would've interfered a little bit in his favor, had she not been hunted by Reaper all these years.

Ah- this makes sense, now. Reaper finally caught up to her, and Lucio must've been the recruit she was picking up. Amari hadn't mentioned the name of the person she was with, though on reflection, it should've been obvious. She had been in Argentina when the Recall went off, after all- Lucio was one of the few that she'd been able to easily pick up on her way to the Watchpoint.

"Lucio Correia dos Santos? My apologies, I lost my a bit of my memory revolving around the attack; I can't even remember my trip from my previous location. I see you are doing well enough, though I can't help but notice your legs. Did that… happen during the attack?"

Lucio's enthusiasm waned, and nodded solemnly. He glanced down at her own leg, which was still obviously robotic despite the pants and shoes she was wearing.

"Same thing that got both my legs got the edge of yours. If you hadn't pulled me out of the way, I'd be missing a head and chest, not just my legs. For that, I owe you my life, Captain. But you- you had it worse. What's it like living off of nanites?"

Wynne smiled somewhat forlornly, at the return of Lucio's cheeriness, and suppressed a wince. "It is… it takes some getting used to, I will admit. Prior to this, I had prided myself on contributing more to the world by being simply me- simply human. Maybe I'm a little vain, but I've always thought I've done more in my life than Commander Morrison ever did. He went out on missions and commanded elite little task forces. I trained hundreds, who went on to do dozens of great things, each of them. Some of them decided to teach what I taught, and so my legacy lives on. I prided myself on being human, and still having a massive impact on the world. It was hard to come to terms with my new… additions. The bright side is that I feel younger."

Captain Wynne leaned forward, staring down at the toasted, buttered bagel, fried egg, and hashbrowns piled on her plate. She'd taken a bite of the bagel, but little else. After a long moment, she stared at Lucio.

"I'll race you from the launchpad to Winston's lab in two hours. Don't show up late, or I'll assign you cleaning duties."

Lucio's expression instantly switched from a meloncholy thoughtfulness to a wariness and a hint of excitement.

"You think you can beat me in a race, Wynne? You've barely gotten outta your bed."

Captain Wynne gave Lucio a grim smile, one that made him instantly three times more cautious. "Why yes, Lucio, I do. And I think we both need training in our new legs- yours being much more interesting than mine."

[][][]

A small crowd of people showed up to watch the start of Lucio's and Leigh's race, somehow having been leaked out. Leigh Wynne had only meant for it just to be a… race, not a spectacle, but it was too late now. Those aging members of the old Overwatch were discussing among themselves Wynne's odds- and those newer members were crowding around the edge of those groups, trying to gauge the odds of Lucio's speed- which they've seen over the past week, while Wynne's been knocked out- against the former Overwatch Captain, who was 62 years old. A 26 year old versus a 62 year old? Easy odds, right? A few people placed bets on Wynne, who let the gambling slide this time. She saw multiple familiar faces- Reinhardt, Ana, who were standing oddly close to each other, Fareeha, Lena Oxton (talking excitedly and poking everyone), and finally, Winston himself. All of them were dressed in Overwatch casual- an Overwatch jumpsuit, that is, with jackets or hats thrown on as personal decor.

Wynne rolled her eyes. Was a race really worth this sort of crowd? She just about jumped in place as Reinhardt boomed out, laughing explosively, before catching her gaze, roaming across the spectators, and calling out, "Lylla, the odds are against you!"

She snorted at him, drawing several laughs.

Turning to Lucio, who was watching the crowd just as much as she was, she asked under her breath, "Start in three seconds?"

Equally quiet, "You're on, Wynne."

Three seconds later, they bolted from their relaxed poses in front of a crowd to shoot away, drawing cries of surprise and "No fair!" from spectators.

Wynne pushed herself- she knew it was bad to forgo stretching before a race, but it wasn't too far of a distance, and Lucio had a similar disadvantage- though he also had robotic legs. Determined to press on, she quickened her pace, feet pounding against the crowd a little unsteadily until she became accostomed to the different weight and slightly different build of her robotic leg. Finally settling into the rhythym, she was able to force herself even faster.

...Where was Lucio? A quick glance around saw that, as she passed through the hangar's door into the shuttle bay, he was gliding along the leftmost wall, hopping from cargo box to wall, and finally up to the catwalk leading into the belly of the dropship hanging from the ceiling. He was slightly ahead of her…

She shoved herself on, down the slight dip in the center of the hangar and out the other side, charging headlong down the cargo path's dip to go underneath another section of the base. Several soldiers were waiting down here; all of them were cheering her up. The downward plunge gave her a sudden surge of speed, one that she struggled to keep up with and not take a tumble. She used it to charge almost as fast up the slope, and round the next corner. Lucio was wall-sliding almost directly above her- he was laughing almost hysterically at how he was traveling.

No matter; it wouldn't be funny when she beat him. She could hear it now- that sliding chalkish sound of the hardlight boots grinding against the wall as he headed towards the lab's balcony, on the same level as Winston's personal workstation. She rushed up the stairs, taking them three at a time in great leaps of steps. Without a pause, she burst into the lab, startling Angela Ziegler, who was bent over a bundle of white and purple pieces of armor, wiring, and black cloth.

She jerked up, unsteadily, and jerked her head toward the sudden intrusion. The doctor blinked several times, clearing her thoughts, and managed to open her mouth before she started again.

From above, Lucio shouted, "HAH! I WON! WOOoooh, you're already here. Damn. Who was here first, Angela?" Lucio had reached the railing, heaving with deep breathes, and was staring down at the smirking, slightly winded Wynne.

In confusion more befitting a puppy- head tilted to the side, a somewhat blank expression on her face- she pointed uncertainly at Leigh Wynne.

Lucio muttered indistinctly under her breath, and Wynne asked, "Want a rematch?"

There was a long moment of silence before he answered, "In a couple days."

Wynne threw her head back and laughed, heartily. Angela just stared at the both of them in confusion. Wynne turned around and started walking back outside, while Lucio continued leaning against the railing. Not entirely sure what's happening, Angela just stared at Lucio until he waved her gaze away.

"She challenged me to a race. She's been bedridden for two weeks, operated on, had a leg replacement, and she beat me with robotic superlegs the second day she's out." The dejectedness in his voice was so thick you could feel it.

Angela tried to suppress herself but- it was too late. She covered her mouth as she let out a giggle.

[][][]

Wynne made it halfway back to the starting point by the time the crowd- who were talking amiably and following in her footsteps- met her.

Reinhardt Windhelm solemnly took a step forward from the group, and regarded her smirking face cautiously. With a sigh, he pushed a hand into one of his jumpsuit's pockets, pulled out a 20 Euro note, and handed it to Ana. Naturally, she took it and cackled her victory, and turned to the rest of them- "And that teaches you kids never to underestimate us grandmas!"

With a resounding, collective groan from all those who were hoping for Lucio to win, and cheers from anyone who Wynne served with or trained, money was passed back around as the bets finished.

Lucio followed along a minute later, staring dejectedly at Wynne, who had more than a couple congrulations from people. His friends began wandering over, and he gave them a sheepish smile, glad that no one had heard his initial outburst when he thought he'd won.

Then came time for that person to crack a pun- from off to the side, a short figure clomped his way over to the crowd, saying, "It only makes sense that Wynne would win, after all."

The first person to respond was Reinhardt, as per usual- "Torbjorn, my friend! Welcome back to our old stomping grounds! It has been so long since I've seen you, old friend. And the puns, like always!"

As several of the others moved over to the next most interesting thing- Winston came over the Wynne, standing next to her for a moment.

"Satisfied?"

Wynne didn't ask what he was talking about; she knew.

"I am, Winston. We've got a good group. And this leg held up… well enough."

She reached up and pulled a chain out of the neckline of her blue-and-white jumpsuit, revealing a small, quarter-sized pendant the same thickness as a finger. In the center was a small glass pane; blue light shone brightly from it, and there was a sliver at the top that was empty. A small canister of nanites, traveling through the chain that connected to the back of her neck.

"Let's hope everything goes this well. For me, at least- I don't think Lucio's having a good time."

Indeed, Lucio was still moping around, and Wynne punched Winston in the shoulder, friendly enough in theory, though Winston winced slightly.

"You knew Torbjorn was here?" Winston nodded in response. "Been here awhile?" Another nod. "Working on a suit for me with you and Angela?" Winston glanced at her, surprised, and sighed.

"Surprise? We meant to have it finished before you were aware of it, but too late now. You saw Ana working on it?"

Wynne nodded the affirmative, and replied, "It's got purple the same color as my eyes. You're making me a hero."

"You're already a hero, Captain."

"I'm a soldier, Winston, and I'm not a Captain anymore."

"I've already reinstated you. Ana is my second-in-command. I want you to train them- the new recruits- individually. Do this for me, Captain Wynne. I've reviewed your entire file. Anyone you train goes on to do great things, without fail, and they're always some of the best of the best. We're fighting a war, and we're outnumbered and outgunned- even worse than we were when we had the UN's support. Are you with me?"

Wynne nodded in response, and then straightened up, and turning to Winston. Sensing something of importance from the woman, Winston turned fully to her, unaware of watching eyes. Rather seriously, Leigh Wynne saluted Winston- but not with the old salute of Overwatch, the salute that almost every military in the world used. No, this was Winston's operation, and she would salute Winston.

The Wolf raised a fist, and beat it twice against her chest, and gave the Gorilla a fierce smile.

"These newbies won't know what hit them."


	3. Chapter 3: Train-day

There was a separate barracks set aside for the new recruits, though some in their barracks were a little older than them- Tracer being one, and Mei being the other. The second had received much fanfare upon arriving at the base, Winston having briefed them all on Mei's situation, and how he had received a distress call shortly after the Recall.

But there were to be no exceptions made; these are all new Overwatch agents.

Wynne checked her watch- 6:29:33 a.m.

Twenty seconds later, she opened the keyed the pad next to the barracks' doors, and they slid open, framing her with the stairwell's light. She paused for three seconds, and then her watch read 6:30 a.m. Immediately the watch stated beeping, going off over and over, but not too terribly loud. Indeed, it was just enough to catch her attention, and wasn't supposed to be anything more.

She waited ten seconds for a response and finally got one. One of the new recruits- a petite girl with a pile of brown, messy hair and pink facepaint smeared on both her cheeks- sat up and squeaked at her, "Turn that offfffff."

Having gotten a cue, Lylla summoned the vast power of lungs that have swum, sprinted, climbed, roared, and lifted more than many of those in the room ever would, and chose the fourth of the previously mentioned actions.

" **GEEET UP, YOU LOT! COME ON, COME ON, COME ON! LET'S GET MOVING!** "

Lylla was not disappointed as almost everyone in the room bolted up, startled out of their minds at the booming that had suddenly bursted forth from the doorway of the room. Hana Song was the first person out of bed, though that was because she was startled so much that she fell out, rather than slid out.

Without being asked, half the room started pouring over to their chests or lockers to get one of their jumpsuits on, as Wynne marched into the room, roaring and yelling at the recruits, 'encouraging' them to get their jumpsuits on and stand at the ready in front of their bunks.

It took eleven minutes for the last of them- Lena Oxton- to get into position. She was also the last out of bed.

Returning to her position in the doorway, Captain Leigh "Lylla" Wynne surveyed the future heroes of Overwatch.

"It took eleven minutes and forty-eight seconds for everyone to get ready. Normally I'd assign laps based on who's last, but that's terrible for _all_ of you. The only decent time was Lucio here with six minutes and thirty-five seconds, and that's because he didn't have to put on any pants. Stop sniggering, or I'll assign trash duty."

She paused for a moment, staring all of them down. How to punish them all… she already knew how she was going to do it, of course, but it was a little fun to see them all a little pale and panicked, wilting slightly underneath her gaze. Except Lucio and Lena- of course it'd be the first and last people.

"Alright, rank yourselves based on the order you got to your bunk. I know exactly what it is, so don't try to get a higher rank. Be honest now, and line up in front of me. There you go… alright! Everyone take your rank- Lucio is rank 1, you, Mei are rank 2, et cetera… now double that number. That's how many laps you have. And there are twelve of you, so it's going to be _fun._ The only exception is Lucio- because he had the fastest time this morning, he can go wake up the cooks. Each lap is completed by running from entrance of this stairwell out into the hangar, to the launchpad, and back. This is day one. Day two will be harder. When you are done, feel free to go and eat. Assemble at the cliffside at precisely 12:30 p.m., or more running laps will be assigned."

She hesitated again, noting the way that people were starting to lean towards the doorway, the way that they wanted to get started and over with already, and she opened her mouth- and hesitated again. Some of them were starting to lose her balance.

She smiled, and then finally finished, "Go now."

She jumped neatly to the side as they flooded out the door, into the stairwell, and onto their first run. She smirked at the messy bedsheets- some of them were scattered across the ground- but she'd relent today. They'll fix it when they get back.

Lylla followed up the stairs, and ran to catch up with the slowest of them. Through all the laps, all the way to the last person running their last lap, she was there, shouting encouragement, running right there next to them. But it was always tempered by a threat- "YOU SLOW DOWN AND YOU GET ANOTHER! KEEP GOING!"

She herself was sweating a little bit by the time she finally walked with the last two into the cafeteria. Motioning for them to continue on, she paused and set her hands on her hips, surveying her twelve like a denmother, eyeing all of them in a way that made them shift uneasily. Eventually, she gave up her vigil and approached the cooks, one of which was already setting out her usual tray of food. Thanking the man, she turned around- only to be greeted by Lucio waving her over. Rolling her eyes, she allowed herself to be summoned, sitting down at the 16-seat table (two cafeteria tables pushed together) next to Lucio- presumably in a seat that he saved for her.

Naturally, having their trainer, and the source of so many dreary eyes and panting faces, wasn't normally the best of ideas, especially not back at the old Overwatch or when she first signed up and joined the Arditi. This seemed to be tempered by the fact that she ran just as much or more than all of them, and while some seemed put off, they all knew her rep, knew that she beat Lucio, and knew that she ran just as much as them. Though, some people were eyeing Lucio rather resentfully for not having to run at all. The Captain filed that little tidbit away for future use; it'd be no use to have members of a team resenting one of their own.

As they began finishing up, Lucio managing to include her in most of the conversations around the table, she halted everyone before any could leave.

"Learn something. Work hard. We're here as part of Overwatch, not a summer camp. I'll be trying to set up some instructors to have classes for you all, but until then, research. Learn about the new Omnic Crisis, find a new weapon and start training with it, see if you can apprentice yourself to one of our more experienced members, such as Winston, Dr. Ziegler, or otherwise. We'll meet up at the cliffs for some instruction, and then we'll train. Eat before you arrive. Every morning, I want you all up and dressed in front of your beds at 6:35. If you can't get it done when I wake you up at 6:30, then wake up earlier. Ten laps by default, but two more for every thirty seconds you're late, every morning. This is our schedule now, so let's get to it. We train until dinner, and then you're free. Weekend are free as well. I'll be spending my free time in Winston's lab, running, or training in the hangar- you're free to join me at any time. And if you have any ideas about anything, let me know. A good commander is always open to suggestions. Dismissed, everyone."

Everyone rose to their feet, Lylla following just a moment behind them, wondering what they were all getting at. A moment later they came to attention, more or less, and beat a closed righthand fist against their chest, twice.

Lylla gave them a wolfish smile, and saluted back.


	4. Chapter 4: Meltdown

Hey there everybody!

If you've read this far- THANK YOU! It means a great deal to me, it really does.

Alright, so this is chapter 4, right? Yeah, that sounds about right. This one chapter alone is like, a half dozen pages or more. I've originally had about 26 pages written, and I'm writing more, but atm my other writing project has also caught my interest once again. I should have one or two more chapters to add after this, for tomorrow and the day after, but after that, chapters might slow greatly- or they might come along at the same pace as before.

Next chapter, though, I think, I'll post the character sheet I've written up for my character- Captain Leigh Tessa "Lylla" Wynne. She is a great many things, including but not limited to being Italian, and a mimic.

And please, leave a review! Reviews are my life, and I can never get better if I never get any feedback! I remember looking back at my first writing project, and I hated my writing so much! I had come so far! I've only gotten better since then because I've had feedback, and because I could incorporate that into what I write. Even looking back at my writing eight months ago, my writing has improved greatly- despite most of that time being a large well of a total lack of inspiration.

Anyhow, enough of my rambling. Thank you all for reading, and here's our first real action scene. Enjoy!

[][][][]

A week later found Captain Wynne in command of a small squad, trying their best to sneak through a Siberian snowstorm. It was admittedly a bad idea, but it was their only chance to get close enough to one of the remote Omniums without being detected. Of course, they also weren't trudging through the snow on foot- no, heavens no, that'd be preposterous.

Instead, Volskaya industries had practically hired the fledgling Overwatch, promising funds and equipment in exchange for getting the job, that so many of their people failed, to finish. They were trudging through the snow in the brand-new Volskaya Mekhanizirovannaya pekhotnaya 3, or Volskaya Mechanized Infantry Unit 3. The VMIU, or 'Mech,' had a particle beam cannon, with a moderate range, on the right arm, and a traditional, humanoid hand on the left, though the arm was enlarged with a particle shield generator. The functionality seemed to combine precision thermal-energy weaponry and the defensive prowess of a Crusader's energy shield, in a form large enough to beat a Crusader in hand-to-hand. With a reinforced cockpit and the entire thing being roughly 10 feet tall, it was easily one of the largest 'infantry' units ever deployed.

The drawbacks of working with slash for the Russians was that half her squad were their 'best.' Three of them were Overwatch, and three more were Russian. While they served as useful guides, their training was sorely… well, lacking. Captain Wynne didn't much like them- one of them was most certainly a political officer, someone who essentially lives to tell his commanders who isn't a devout communist- so they can disappear. Political officers weren't particularly skilled in anything but scaring the living hell out of their comrades, which turned the other two Russians in her group to have next to no independent thought, and terrified that even following her orders would consider them a Western-supporter, and therefore liable to disappear.

Nonetheless, she'll take what she can get. They'll make good distractions for the omnics in case they have to run.

The two that came with her are former Corporal Philip Iverson, and Lieutenant Howard Lance. Both of them were trained, and she roughed them up a couple days before the mission to see if she approved of them- which she did. So, satisfied that half her force were satisfactory, and that the other half were afraid of taking her orders, despite her being placed in charge, in mechanized war-suits that they had only spent about three days practicing with- what could go wrong?  
There was a similar force attacking from the other side, led by Ana Amari with a small group of 'heroes.' They were traveling in a Snowcrawler, a Russian transport designed to travel over the snow and have maximum stealth capabilities. They were trying to sneak in, but Wynne's group needed to cause as much destruction as suddenly as possible.

Three hours since they had set out; two hours since the snow storm had started. At the moment ,the snow was blowing directly into them- Corporal Iverson led the way by activating his particle shield and letting the storm blow around it , while the rest of them trudged in a compact line behind him. While it was not the most effective combat formation, it conserved the power on all of their reactors, since they took turns- they made better time, as well. Thus, they finally reached the Omnium.

The first sign of it was an endlessly spanning chainlink fence. With visibility down to about ten feet, they figured no one would notice if they just walked through it- so they did. The next sign was a tower about fifteen feet tall, a turret sitting on top that looked reminiscent of a Bastion unit, permanently in sentry mode, with dual miniguns. Not a good sign, but at least it was powered down in the weather- no use turning something on if there's no way for it to see, much less shoot, anything.

She gave an order for two of the Russians to spread out. They were to find a tower, and wait by it. When the fighting started- they were to destroy the towers and charge into the base individually, and cause as much mayhem and destruction as possible. Wynne and her group would travel together and fight their way to the Omnium's core, or retreat if forces began to overwhelm them. If they failed to take the core, the Overwatch strike team would place charges, detonate and clear, and then call in an airstrike from the Russian assets they'd been allotted.

Another minute of pushing through the snowstorm before it came to fruition; they came to an outer wall, maybe twenty-five feet high. They regrouped in the windless area next to the wall, before Wynne counted down. They each raised their cannons, and as one, fired their beams at three different sections. The thickness of the wall took about three seconds for the beams to cut through, and then they began to cut a hole large enough for the mechs to step through. After a half-minute of cutting, they were through- at the cost of the advantage of surprise. The lights began blinking on, and as they stepped through, they found a brand-spanking-new Bastion unit marching towards them, undoubtedly to investigate. The moment it spotted them, the dull yellow light that shone from its visor immediately flashed red, and it dropped into sentry mode- revealing that it had an anti-tank rifle in the place of its minigun. The first round bounced the Wynne's mechsuit legs' armor, as she led the way to it. It was close enough for them to just stomp down on it, crushing it in a shower of sparks, before several bolts finally gave way and it fell apart underneath the weight. Spotting the corner of a building, Wynne led the way to it. Examining the material for a moment, she determined that it was a double-layer of structurally-reinforced sheet metal- which the mechsuit informed her was weak enough for her to walk through.

With a screech of metal and a thunderous rattling, she took a forceful step into the building, crashing through into a manufacturing facility. Sixteen antitank-armed Bastion units against the far wall were visibly powering up, their reactors slowly coming online. As her two soldiers followed behind her as she charged in, she wasted no time in raising the particle cannon, and swiping. The far wall was just far enough away from the particle cannon to lose some of its strength; instead of cutting their torsoes off, it simply scorched them.

One of them was finally online; Wynne flinched as another round bounced against the armor. Thank God these things were layered in modern alloy; one only knew how much damage those rounds would leave. This one had left a scorch mark against the plating, revealing that it wasn't just a normal antiarmor ammunition. Another shot rattled against her arm, as she finally closed the range. With another swipe, she cut clean through all the Bastion units, and through the wall behind them as well. The charging harnesses that they hung from thundered to the ground, having been cut in half with the Bastions. One gun discharged as she cut it down, the round bouncing off the concrete floor and into one of the assembly lines. Turning, she examined the room, before issuing a command to her two soldiers.

As she turned forward and began walking towards the doorway, she activated her shield, turning it towards the doorway that was slowly opening. Behind her, she heard the particle beams activate and begin cutting away at the room, metal screeching and clattering. The shield in front of her hummed with energy; inside the cockpit, all the sounds were filtered through the snowstorm and relayed as if she were on her own two feet, rather than inside a tank.

As she expected, a Bastion unit marched through the doorway. This one wasn't armed like these others; it had the standard automatic rifle attached to its arm, and began firing away merrily at the particle shield. Without any more preamble, the moment it emptied its magazine, it dove into Sentry configuration, bringing about its trademark minigun.

The particle shield held against the 300-round magazine of the minigun without a problem. Seeing an opportunity while it reloaded, she moved her shield away just enough for her to bring her particle cannon to bear, slicing it in half, straight down the middle. Without deactivating it, she swiped it across the entrance, hearing the approach of more Bastion units. Two or three dull _thuds_ rang out, confirming her suspicious. The response was… less than ideal. Four simultaneous anti-material guns fired from out in the blizzard, probably honing in on her through the cameras inside the facility that they were demolishing. Two penetrated- she felt her particle cannon sputter slightly, and the left leg sag slightly, as one of its hydralics began leaking out fluid.

Compensating for the damage by shifting to her right leg, she brought the shield back around, holding it in place as it visibly shuddered under a barrage of six simultaneous rounds, the added two being much lesser- likely the antitank rifles rather than the antimaterial guns. A moment later, the entire shield started sparking up as a rain of probably two or three miniguns started firing on her.

Then the source of all that firepower revealed itself.

It wasn't a Bastion unit, or multiple Bastion units; this was a legitimate warmachine. As it marched towards her, she felt a chill run down her back. Six-legged, with two large mounted antimaterial guns on pylons hanging over the middle legs. Over the front and back legs, chainguns. A minigun hung from underneath the nose of the craft, and a legitimate tank cannon sat on top of the entire construct.

The mech rocked backwards as that tank cannon fired, a 133mm energy-defeating round slamming into her shield, and exploding with force comparabe to 200-pound bomb. The shield almost immediately faltered, and the antimaterial rifles- doublebarreled, not just a single gun per pylon- opened fire again, four rounds smashing through the center of her right leg. All that extra weight on the suddenly faltering leg was enough to start crushing either side.

The mechanized infantry unit crashed to the ground, Wynne flailing madly as she struggled to right herself somewhat, and bring her particle cannon up to bear. As those guns swiveled towards her to finish her off, twin lances of particle energy slammed into the center of the warmachine, sloughing off of thick armor before finally melting through and striking the delicate electronics inside.

Without ceremony, the legs gave out and the weapons' electric rotors, which gave said waepons their range of movement, failed, and it sat rather dejectedly on the ground.

Wynne gave a nervous laugh- a close one. She was staring death in the face.

"Captain Wynne, are you in need of medical assistance?"

"Negative, Lieutenant Lance. Continue with the assault- I'm dismounting. The mech's totaled."

"Affirmative, Captain. Corporal, on me. Let's clear a path."

With that, two mechs simultaneously marched out of the entrance, and soon bright flashes and the screech of metal began again, as they fought their way to a neighboring facility.

Given that her suit's legs were what were primarily damaged, the cockpit worked just fine in disgorging its occupant to the freezing cold. Gone was the sound filtering; the wind and cold battered against Wynne's senses, blinding and freezing her.

But she was wearing her new light assault suit. Unlike the mech, this fit closely to her, providing moderate protection, little weight, and moderate environmental protection. It wouldn't protect her from this sort of cold for long, but it would be long enough for her to get to the Omnium's control center- which had to be air conditioned, otherwise the electronics would either freeze up and stop working, or the supercomputer housing the God AI would overload and melt.

Checking her wrist-screen's schematics, she yanked her rifle out of its carrying handles in the mech. Now armed, she dropped the three feet to the ground, and turned to the smoking, frost-covered mech. Somewhat sorry for what she had to do to it, she tossed a block of C14 into the cockpit. It was designed to protect the pilot from attacks, not contain explosions in it.

She followed the troughs of snow left by the various mechs, knowing that the largest probably originated from the Core. And, as the minimap popped up in her helmet's visor that overlaid the facility's schematics underneath her GPS position, she saw that she should be right. Hefting her stubby, wide rifle- which fired 14.7mm (.50 caliber) cartridges, weighed around 33 pounds, and had a 10-round magazine- she marched on. The white-and-purple color of the custom armor didn't necessarily help her camoflauge, but it didn't really matter. What did matter was that it was thermally contained; as she walked, her own body heat started warming her up, and it didn't let any leak out. She was effectively invisible, and this pleased her very much.

She trudged through the snow until she heard the clomping steps of a hexoped walking towards her. Knowing that the only way she could be detected at the moment was by thermal signature- which was covered- or by simple sight, she dove striaght into the wall of snow next to her, writhing and squirming to cover up all the purple stripes with snow. The steps grew closer; she grew colder. The longer she stayed in the snow drift, unmoving, the harder it'd be to start moving and keep moving.

The steps reached her, and then continued on, following almost exactly the same path as its predecessor. Relieved, she shoved herself out of the snow, dancing in place for a moment to get the blood flowing. The cold was unforgiving, and she feared that she wouldn't reach the Core alive.

But ah-hah! After two more minutes or forcing her way against the wind, she finally reached a set of doors not unlike the wall they burned their way through to get inside. The giant troughs she used as a path led straight to it.

Dutifully, she began running in place, waiting for the telltale tremors that would tell her that another warmachine would leave, which would give her the opportunity to get inside. She _could_ circle around, and find one of the old maintence entrances, but there was too much risk of it being rendered unusable by snow piling up so high that you couldn't find it. It was smarter to just wait.

Finally, the tremors started up again, and she waited until the doors started to creak open, sliding into the walls, before diving into the snow. Squirming around to poke her white helmet out, she watched as the hexoped marched out into the driving blizzard, the doors already beginning to creak close. Hoping that it didn't have cameras watching all angles at all times, she scrabbled out of the snow and into the hangar, waiting until the doors shut entirely.

Darkness, everywhere. Though the snowstorm was thick enough to block out most light, there was still light; here, there was nothing. Activated her thermals, she glanced around, noting how pipes, cables, and sections of the floor and walls were burning, while most of the rest of the room wasn't. Two source sof heat were growing to her left, and switching to nightvision identified them as two more hexoped warmachines, frozen in a silent slumber as their fusion cores began to restart. It was clear that the Omnium was having trouble scrambling its forces; they were all 'asleep,' cold and silent. Nonetheless, she pressed on, marching to the other end of the room. Another hangar door, but this time, there was something more helpful- a maintenance doorway directly next to it, set into the floor. Reaching down, she pulled the handle out of the doorway- it laid flat against the ground so nothing could get caught on it- and then pulled, hard, to bring it up to its counter-clockwise 'open' position. After a moment, she managed it, joints creaking with the stress and cold, and she hopped down after pulling the hatch open. Taking a moment to reach back up and pull the hatch closed, locking it, she turned and surveyed her surroundings.

Oh-ho-ho! The maintenance tunnel extended down past the range of her nightvision; no sensor nodes she could see. This was perfect, and when she switched to thermals, it was obvious where the supercomputer's Core was- it had to be the hottest part of the facility, and the walls slowly get hotter the farther down the tunnel she was in.

Bingo, bingo, Captain Jingo! Leigh Wynne was almost ecstatic. Was this all the challenge this Omnium posed? Sneak up to it, cause mayhem and distract the machines, and then walk into its Core and toss some C14 into it, or shove a crowbar into the environmental command console and let it overheat and melt? This was perfect!

She checked to make sure the chamber of her rifle had a round loaded, and then began marching straight to her objective. Every ten feet, the tunnel split into two more to the left and right, leading to places unknown. At the intersection of each of the shafts, there were heavy, reinforced doors in place to make it possible to lock down a section of the facility, or any section, period. However, based on the heat signature and the warm wind that slowly began to increase, blowing into her face, she determined that they had all probably been opened by the AI to assist in passive Core cooling.

Oh, how perfect. The AI could likely detect temperatures in the tunnels- that was standard in all Omniums before they began going rogue- but there wasn't any need for sophisticated technology down below. Part of the reason being that the maintenance tunnels are to allow engineers access to pretty much anywhere, to allow for repairs on anything that required it- including malfunctioning, locked doors, or gas leaks and the like.

Five hundred feets' worth of walking before she came to the end of the shaft- and every twenty-five feet or so, there had been another tunnel leading off somewhere else. Contrary to the movies or anything else, people wanted things built as simply as possible, to allow as much ease of access and repair as possible. The walls were warm, there wasn't a single drop of moisture, and even through the suit, Wynne could feel the opporessive heat. The escaping wind was powerful enough to force her to lean forward a little, and some of the pipes were barely glowing from the heat they contained. Wynne was very clearly near the core.

Reaching up, Leigh grasped the handle, thankful for the gloves that managed to keep her from gettin second-degree burns. Heaving against it as much as she could, she accidentally shoved herself into the wall- the hatch opened far, far more easily than the one she came in. But then again, the last one was frozen; this one was regularly warmed. On either side, the grating left that hot wind blow through, and as she realized that it'd be a problem. The moment she pushed open the hatch, the _real_ heat would come pouring through the sudden hole in the ground, the very large hole, and the temperature inside the maintenance tunnel would increase substantially. That was practically guaranteed for a God AI to notice.

She paused, wishing she could contact the other team but knowing that breaking radio silence would give away her exact position. No time like the present to do it, anyhow.

Climbing all the rungs of the ladder so that she was pressed up against the hatch, she used her back to heave up, climbing all the while, crawling out of the shaft and rolling onto the ground, letting the hatch shut behind her. By shoving her way through without actually opening the hatch all the way- just enough to let her out- maybe it won't be-

Glancing in, she took in a great, circular room. On the north, south, east, and west walls, a great door stood, just like the one that was more or less behind her- the southern wall, the southern door. Raising her rifle, she heard and felt the clanks of several metallic feet, waiting for something to appear.

She didn't wait long, because from ramps set in the north-eastern and the south-western corners- as in, the ramp closest to her and farthest away from her, on the other side of a giant circular reinforced shell, supported via pylon by both the ground and ceiling, cables coiling around said pylons- came several swiveling robotic heads. Quite unlike all the other Bastion units; these were modified to carry flechette rifles, likely because the flechettes couldn't pierce the outer shell of the supercomputer. Three Bastion-mounted flechette rifles aimed her way, and she dove to the side as they burst-fired at her, spraying roughly 75 of the small darts where she was in the space of a second, from all three combined.

Bringing up her rifle to bear, she pulled the trigger and braced for its wild buck, as it discharged one of its antimaterial rounds. It pierced straight through the chest- the largest target, with relatively flat armor- and the Bastion unit dropped, its reactor falling apart inside.

Took late to move- Wynne was sprayed by a combined 50 flechettes this time, most of them penetrating her armor enough to stick, but only a few piercing through to draw blood. Those were in the joints of the armor, rather than the plates- between torso and leg, for example, were where three on her left side were now digging in, and one on the right. Two more had pierced the joint between her shoulder and left arm, almost rendering it useless from how deep the flechette penetrated. Another burst would likely kill her, if it scored a lucky hit.

She fired again, after aiming just a moment more before the Bastion units could cycle another magazine. The round struck the right leg of the leftmost Bastion unit, collapsing it and dropping it onto its friend, rendering it next to impossible to continue aiming, and giving her enough time to fire at the recovering, staggered Bastion unit it fell on.

All three were out of commission now- to finish them off, she fired another round in the last two's chests, disabling them. Dropping her rifle, arms aching, she carefully reached up and began pulling flechettes out of her arm and leg joints, wincing as the suit began to flood her with nanites. The holes in the suit wouldn't be good; they destroyed the suit's containment, rendering its environmental protection halfway useless in extreme temperatures. Heat was seeping very readily through the holes, and she was beginning to sweat. Quickly, she reached to her belt and pulled another chunk of C14 off. Approaching the supercomputer core, she began placing the explosives next to one of the many seams of the dome, layering on over five blocks- five pounds- of C14 into it. Stabbing the hunk of plastic explosives with a remote detonator, she quickly ran away from the center of the room, her suit sweltering hot.

It was time; she could break radio silence.

"This is Captain Wynne to all Overwatch elements in the area. The Core has been planted with explosives; clear the primary facility!"

Almost immediately, sirens and flashing red lights on the wall triggered as the God AI instantly decoded the open signal and understood its danger. Actual lights immediately started coming to life, blinding Lylla because of the night vision she wore. Deactivating the overlay in her helmet, she ran back to the maintenance hatch, yanking it open and jumping down. Locking it behind her, she flat out sprinted down the hallway, hunched over because of its low ceiling. As soon as she reached fifty feet, she palmed the detonator attached to her hip.

The moment she depressed the button, the ground shook. From behind her, there was a sudden gust of burning air. Her suit tried to fight it off, but it nonetheless burned her skin through the holes in her armor. As the gust subsided, the heat increased- exponentially. Moving as fast as she could, Leigh reached the closest maintenance hatch and frantically began to open it, shoving against it as much as she could against its frozen exterior. With a burst of strength, she threw it open, and she didn't bother to climb a ladder. Leaping upwards, she grabbed the edge of the hatch and hauled herself bodily up and over the edge. Not bothering to close it, she stumbled to her feet on a frozen floor, and sprinted in the dark in the direction opposite of the Core.

She activated night-vision, and barely managed to stop herself before slamming into the opposite wall. Spinning around, the heat increasing all the time, Leigh Wynne stared at the opposite wall. Three doors were set in it, one large enough for the warmachines to walk through. Pressing her back against the wall, she realized something, something very, very important.

She had assumed that the central spherical container was the supercomputer housing the God AI. It was a decent enough guess- the Russians were convinced the AI was in a supercomputer, and the facility was scheduled to receive one when the Omnic Crisis started the first time.

But the cables leading from that thing, and how hot some of them were burning, the lack of servers in that entire room…

That had been a fusion reactor.

And fusion reactors contained magnetic drivers that kept streams of extremely hot plasma from touching anything- because nothing known to man could contain it. The only way to contain it was to hold it suspended away from anything that it could touch.

And she just blew a hole into one.

Her voice was calm when she triggered the radio again, "Captain Wynne reporting in. My escape routes have been overheated, and my suit punctured. The Core was not the AI's supercomputer. I just blew a hole into a fusion reactor."

There weren't any replies for several long seconds, before Ana replied.

"We're sending your GPS coordinates to your squadmates, Captain. You can expect an escape route made for you in several minutes. All of Djdaha's robotic units have gone still; it appears that the AI is withdrawing. If what you attacked isn't it's primary computer, it could be compiling itself into a storage device somewhere- we simply don't know. We were nearly to the Core ourselves when you spoke up. Hold on in there."

Hold on was what she'd do, yeah. Checking the temperature readout- internal suit temperature was at 89 degrees. External temperature was approaching 118 degrees; some sections of the wall opposite to her were beginning to glow. That reactor's capsule must've been… fifty, sixty feet in radius? It was very, very large, and that detonation must've punched a hole straight to the plasma for there to be such a reaction.

From behind her, she could hear clanging, thundering. Through the metal, even. Likely her Russian friends or one of the her own two soldiers.

96 degrees internal suit temperature; 133 degrees Fahrenheit external temperature. Several pipes hanging from the ceiling lost their aging bolts to the heat, and began clattering down, startling the Captain from her anxious vigil. Glancing around, she took in vague shapes from around her; the room was too dark for even night vision to give her a decent look at what was contained in the room. Likely 3D macroprinters or assemblers or somesuch. Like it mattered.

A lance of blindly bright light suddenly pierced the room from the wall she was pressed against, her helmet automatically darkening her visor to prevent her from being blinded. Deactivating nightvision,- the commands were all done mentally, by the way- Wynne took several steps forward. Inside her suit, she was sweating, panting, and she knew it'd take only another minute before her armor began failing. After that, it was only a matter of time before she, herself, began to burn alive in her suit.

As that bright, blazingly bright, particle beam slowly began to cut downwards from the center of the wall, a blast of icy wind began to push into the room. It only took thirty seconds for a sizable enough hole to open up, but at that point, several door systems began failing on the other side of the room. One of the doors creaked open, and a fresh blast of 200-degree-Fahrenheit wind blew into the room, chasing out the cold and raising the temperature even more.

"Watch it, Pilot! I'm coming out the hole you made!"

"Wait, it hasn't even cooled-"

Wynne ignored the pilot's next words, as she turned to the six-inch steel wall and leapt through it, the heat inside her suit notably increasing for a moment before she was through, and in a room that was now swirling with snow. It was almost blissfully cool- actually, it was so cold that her mechanical leg locked up slightly at the sudden change in temperature. The exoskeleton in her suit likewise stiffened, cooling down at a prodigious rate.

"Christ almighty! The hole you just came through… it's not cooling!"

"Move, Corporal Lance! We gotta get out of here, that's a fusion reactor!"

The Corporal wasn't sciencey- he didn't know what a fusion reactor was, not really. However, the panic in his Captain's voice was more than enough for him to turn around and prepare for flight. He only paused because his sensors alerted him that someone was climbing up the back of his mech- and Wynne confirmed his suspicions when she peeked at one of the cameras facing the rear. Taking the first several steps slow to let the Captain adjust, he ran.


	5. Chapter 5: Captain Leigh Wynne's Dossier

Character sheet time! Here's a full detailed recounting of Leigh Wynne.

For those of you who are reading this for the romance- it'll take a while. Leigh Wynne is focused on her duty, first and foremost over anything else. I'm still trying to figure out who COULD romance her, though I certainly am planning some scenarios.

That being said, I'm considering the romancing happening to her in flashbacks of her time in the original Overwatch.

[][][][]

Name: Leigh Tessa Wynne

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Pansexual

Rank: Captain

Role: Head of Security, Overwatch Headquarters

Aliases: "Princeps," "Lyall" (Translation: Captain, Shieldwolf)

Age: 62, as of 2076

Appears to be: 44

With the inclusion of nanites, Leigh's aging will slow. Given larger amounts at a time, aging may even begin to stop or reverse slightly, such as Mercy's case.

Short summary of personality:  
Captain Leigh Wynne is a serious, focused individual that is a great advocate for teamwork. Believes in those around them, and has expressed unending patience, loyalty, duty, and support to all.

Summarization of Italian Arditi career: Exemplary, especially when commanding and leading

Summarization of NATO career: Exemplary, especially so when training new recruits to train with a multinational force.

Summarization of Overwatch career: Above-average on all fronts, but more so when dealing with the inclusion of NATO units, nationalistic units, new recruits, and Overwatch 'Hero' individuals.

Notable relationships:

Adona and Antionio Wynne, parents. No siblings.

Reinhardt Windhelm (Fought alongside during Germany's Omnic Crisis; worked closely together to push back the invasion of Bastion units and company)

Angela Ziegler (Assigned physician and psychologist)

Ana Amari (Supervising Commander)

Winston (Researcher working in collaboration with Agent Torbjorn; Wynne served as a guinea pig for multiple technological advances)

Torbjorn Lindholm (See above)

Fareeha Amari (Commander Amari was fond of leaving Fareeha Amari in alternatively Grabriel Reyes' care, or Leigh Wynnes' while away on missions)

Lena Oxton (Served as the test pilot's guide and commander prior to her disappearance.)

Lylla, Leigh's literal pet wolf. Occasionally makes the joke that they're actually the same soul.

"Wynne was married to his work. He dedicated everything to those men and women who served. He dedicated everything to the world. No one was close to Wynne, and yet, everyone was." - Commander Ana Amari, at Wynne's funeral

Notes:

Can speak Latin, Italian (native), English, and Arabic exceedingly fluently. At any point when speaking any of these, Wynne can imitate many accents, or none at all.

Leigh Wynne is a mimic.

Leigh Wynne also had a pet wolf during time served a Head of Security

History with Arditi:

[REDACTED]

History with NATO:

Was only present for two years.

Lieutenant Wynne of the Arditi was nominated and accepted into NATO by Italy's UN representative, in collaboration with the Arditi superiors, as part of a publicity stunt- that Italy's best was being put forth to fight the Omnics on a global scale.

At the time of first recruitment, Wynne was grilled exclusively by several of NATO's military trainers before deemed best fit for training other trips, or a leadership capacity. For the next two years, Lieutenant Wynne was promoted to Captain, and served alternatively between being in the field, and training the same regiment Wynne was leading.

During this time, Wynne was integral to several victories against the Omnics, and organized the strategic retreats of over a dozen failed missions- both offense and defense- to prevent a mission failure becoming a massacre of troops and civilians.

History with Overwatch:

Captain Leigh Wynne was inducted to Overwatch shortly after its founding, having been studied from afar by Commander Ana Amari, before being officially offered a position in Overwatch. Once accepted (which was immediate), Wynne went on the begin training newly recruited Overwatch units to work not as a multinational force, like Wynne would in NATO, but rather as a single group of elite special forces- the best of the best, dedicated to fighting the unrest. They became the world's first Overwatch unit, and it fell to Wynne to train all their predecessors. While there were many other trainers assisting Wynne, it fell to Wynne to be in charge of the training of every recruit through Overwatch.

As time passed, Commander Amari reassigned Wynne to the frontlines; immediately Wynne saw action in Eichenwalde. It was here that Wynne became both exceedingly popular among regular, non-augmented trips everywhere after telling off a German Oberst (A Major) for their headlong charge into the Bastion unit invasion. Working with multiple supportive Crusaders, Captain Wynne assisted in the repulsion of that particular attack. Shortly afterwards, the Crusader program relegated over 200 early-type exosuits to an experiment by Captain Wynne.

Note: The Crusader Program is confidential. The following information has been released for this particular dossier.

In the early stages of the Crusader program- to construct supersoldiers- initial units were outfitted with exoskeletons to help lift heavy full-coverage body armor. After this proved inadequate, the Crusader program phased them out and stored them at Eichenwalde's Crusader research facility. It had remained as one of the last stockpiles of military-grade exosuits.

Captain Wynne used the exosuits in collaboration with the Crusaders to form a Roman legion of old. Having armed the exosuited soldiers of Wynne's regiment with shields salvaged from fallen Bastion units from the previous attack, Wynne used his forces as a walking shield wall. The Crusaders, Wehrmacht, Bundeswehr, and Overwatch used this shield wall to expand the defensive capabilities of the Crusader's energy shields by creating a much larger barrier. Using these 'legions' to protect the majority of the attacking forces, the forces at Germany were able to close into the German Omnium and destroy it with the lowest casualty rate to date.

After the incident with the Major, who had significant political connections to both NATO and the UN, Captain Wynne had to be reassigned to somewhere that would somehow 'punish' Wynne. As such, Wynne was removed from the frontlines, and placed again back at Overwatch headquarters, as the new Head of Security. While also serving as a trainer for new recruits, the income of new bodies was much lower than before, and Wynne's skill at training large groups was no longer as required, especially given that the previous trainers learned to emulate Wynne.

Captain Wynne remained as head of security until Overwatch's downfall. It is reported that Blackwatch Commander Gabriel Reyes confronted Wynne three days prior to the Headquarters' destruction. Reyes gave Wynne the first optional leave that Wynne accepted in over four years of service in the military (Wynne had often had to be forced off base in order to take temporary leave). Three days later had found Wynne in Washington, DC, though it was reported that three Blackwatch agents attacked Wynne. Also reported from a quick interview with Wynne shortly afterwards with the police, the three agents fled when they saw news on the TV that Wynne had been watching the OW Headquarters had been destroyed; after that day, few Blackwatch operatives had been found.

Captain Wynne had expressed the only grief ever recorded at the news of the headquarter's destruction; reportedly, Wynne's pet wolf had been in the building.

Shortly afterwards, Captain Wynne disappeared, and is suspected to have gone underground. It is thought that Wynne did so due to suspicions that Blackwatch- and Reyes- wanted Wynne both out of the way, and dead.

However, the circumstances of Captain Wynne's disapperance suggests that Wynne is dead.

Captain Leigh "Lyall" Wynne is thought dead, and was buried by the Arditi, NATO, and Overwatch.

Captain Wynne accepted the Overwatch Recall Winston sent out three days afterwards. After contacting Winston- who expressed surprise befitting of someone who had just talked to a ghost- Wynne began making his way to Watchpoint Gibraltar while picking up several new 'hero' recruits that accepted the Overwatch offer extended by Tracer and Winston, when Talon finally caught up to him.

The resulting battle left him paralyzed from the neck down, and new recruit Lucio's legs having been crushed and shredded in the battle. Lucio received new legs, armed with hardlight skids and a variety of other hardware.

Captain Wynne received extensive upgrades and reconstruction to repair and replace parts of his damaged nervous system. By utilizing nanites, it was possibly to bring back microchip-assisted movement in his body, at the cost of constantly using up nanites for every signal sent between brain and body. As such, after returning to Overwatch, Wynne has increased agility and mobility, slightly increased resilience and durability, a much more notable weakness, and a reliance on nanites. Wynne has several ways to keep his supply of nanites high- he wears a necklace around his neck, casually, which is actually a tube for nanites, whose pendant also contains a very notable amount of nanites. Winston is currently working on a combat suit and exoskeleton that would tie in with his new cybernetic nervous system, which is designed to carry around a very significant amount of nanites, and Angela's healing staff can also resupply his body with a reservoir of nanites. He's also had a harness built for both chest protection and nanite storage, which looks similar to Tracer's harness, if it was for full chest protection.


	6. Chapter 6: Meltdown Aftermath

Leigh Wynne trudged wearily up the dropship's ramp, joints aching painfully, sore and bleeding a little from multiple punctures in arm and hips. It was still cold out, undoubtedly so, but she didn't care, as she began unbuckling parts of her armor. The exoskeleton would require Winston's assistance to remove, but for now, she'd settle for taking the armor off. The Overwatch dropship had landed on one of the Russian Spetsnaz bases in the meltdowned Omnium's vicinity. Before her lay a dozen buildings, ranging from two hangars to a half dozen buildings that served as the barracks, mess hall, and command center. A tower sat between the two hangars, which were to her left, and there was a rather measly chainlink fence surrounding the entire compound. Directly in front of her lay the icy road out of this wasteland. Also directly in front of her, on the frozen but cleared 'helipad' similar to the one her dropship was currently on, stood the three remaining Russian mechs. Her own and two of the Russians had lost their mechs with the activation of the AI's defenses. Those pilots, a group of the Overwatch agents that were attacking from the other end (which had distracted the majority of the anti-personnel Bastion units inside the facility, while her own group distracted all of the anti-armor units), and a crowd of Spetsnaz and Russian military officials all stood in a group, talking to each other. The highest of officials- another political officer, but a general at that- was speaking to Commander Amari, likely debriefing her side of the battle. It was a surprisingly straightforward operation, as well- the blizzard gave them a massive advantage over the AI, who clearly wasn't expecting such a tactic.

The Spetsnaz had already confirmed her suspicions, though, when she was talking to them a few minutes earlier. The other AI-controlled Omniums had shored up defenses, small robots being seen traveling around the outer edge of the perimeter. The current theory was that they were either remote sensor nodes, that were being placed, or mines. Both seemed most likely. The same strategy wouldn't work twice.

On the bright side, they _did_ destroy the most remote of Omniums. While that may seem somewhat backwards- shouldn't one focus on destroying the closest Omniums?- Wynne saw it as a sound strategy. By taking out the backline, of sorts, the Omniums remaining were effectively landlocked and trapped, there being no way for them to reach the sea, or use this area's resources. They were closer to other Russian military elements, meaning that any responses to those Omniums would be far faster.

Leigh Wynne pulled out a small wrench, sliding it into a slot on her side. After briefly fiddling with it, she finally caught on the knob. A moment later, she felt the armor around her chest loosen, letting her breath a little bit more (albeit, far more coldly). She repeated the action on the opposite side, and the armor automatically unhitched itself from each other, front and back pieces falling to the titanium-alloy dropship ramp. Reaching forward, she snatched it before it could slide to the ground, and tossed it inside the dropship. A moment later saw the second plate follow it. She also removed her upper leg/thigh armor, using a similar process. Those found their way to the main of the dropship as well.

Breathing a little easier with only her Overwatch jumpsuit and the exoskeleton's carbon nanotube jumpsuit (which was about thirteen times better than a kevlar jumpsuit, in terms of density, protection, and warmth) on, she stretched a bit, wincing at the sharp pains from the flechette penetrations. The armor only covered the exoskeleton, key areas, and assisted the nanotube jumpsuit's protection. By piercing the jumpsuit, one lost the strength and integrity of quite a bit of the jumpsuit, no longer being as environmentally protective. Even now, she was freezing. Glancing at her shoulder, she winced, seeing that she had lost enough blood to stain half of her arm and the entire area around the wound red. When she flexed her arm, a lance of pain stabbed through her. Relaxing it, she saw another few ounces of blood abruptly leak out.

Heaving herself off her feet, she turned to go inside the dropship, to its first aid kit, before something stopped her.

"Princeps Lylla," spoke a thick but recognizable Russian accent, "It appears you have brought your second Omnium to an end. I see my decision to request Overwatch aid was not in vain."

Turning her body just enough for her to glance over her shoulder at the visitor, she shrugged.

"Just doing my duty, sir. This Omnic Crisis needs to end."

"Agreed, Lylla. And please, no formalities. I know you prefer being called Lylla, and I prefer being called my name."

Lylla stared at the man for several long moments. She knew his name, she just hated acknowledging the man and his ego. No matter what he said, he still held notable control and influence over her.

"Aye, Alexei Volskaya. Many thanks for allowing us to use your prototypes. It functioned quite well up until it got shot."

The man's grin widened, despite the fact that he lost a multibillion dollar war machine.

"Ah, yes, things tend to go wrong when you get shot. Such as your arm, for example. Do you need assistance? I have a doctor with me that could patch it up in no time at all. A flechette wound, I understand it?"

Leigh impatiently waved him off, replying, "That won't be necessarily, Alexei. What else do you want?"

The man chuckled, "Straight to the point, as always. I was just looking into offering you-"

"No."

Alexei paused a moment, raising an eyebrow at her interruption.

"I wasn't trying to recruit you again. I would love to have you train our men, and maybe throw those political officers into a tiffy about you superseding their power- they really have too much of it for the military to be effective anymore- but you've made it clear about your intentions to the world, not just your friends."

Leigh didn't exactly count him a 'friend,' but she knew she wouldn't be able to convince the fifty-five-year-old prodigy otherwise. The aging, white-haired father of the 'Defender of the People" Katya Volskaya, the new face of Volskaya industries.

"No, I was offering you a… contract, of sorts. The Russian Federation will push for Overwatch to be reinstated, and for the Petras Act to be removed, and you will receive a dozen of our next stable combat mechanized infantry units."

"In exchange for?"

His smile twitched- he never liked someone not agreeing to his terms on the first pass.

"The mechs will have both the Overwatch and Volskaya industries logo, and you use them wherever possible. We'll even supply you a dropship to your specifications to carry them. And that you assist the Russian Federation against the Omnics wherever possible, of course."

That last part sounded more like it was tacked on, rather than a key point of the trade. Nonetheless, she sighed, and replied, "I am in agreement with your proposal, Alexei, but I am only a Captain. Talk to Ana-"

"I already have. She's agreed to go through with it if you are- which you just said." A victorious smile. Why was he so happy? He was effectively giving away billions of dollars for the promise of repeated assistance from people who would've already given it, and for advertising, really. He slunk off with escorts that appeared out of nowhere, as the rest of the Overwatch agents began returning to the dropship.

Inside, Angela forced her down onto the table and out of her exosuit, scolding her for not making it apparent earlier that she had been shot, repeatedly. Wynne followed her orders mutely, not particularly minding how much Angela grumbled about how Overwatch agents had an agenda to get themselves killed, or bled out, or quite a few other things. Wynne knew Angela's opinion- she thought of Overwatch to be a necessary evil, barely. Otherwise, she was glad that Overwatch was shut down. Wynne didn't agree, not in total, but then, everyone's entitled to their own beliefs.

Wynne refused to react as Angela wiped away the blood that had been soaking into her jumpsuit, sitting stolidly still as she poured some amount of antiseptic into all five of her puncture wounds, the worst getting a much larger dose than the others. Next, she unhooked the exosuit's nanite storage tank from her neck, and hooked in her staff. After a moment of pressing one of the staff's many buttons, she retracted its cable and instead hooked up Wynne's nanite-containing necklace, freshly refilled ever since she had replaced it- while nearly empty- with her exosuit, which contained its own battery of nanites. Satisfied that the wounds were clean and that the nanites would repair all the damage to her- Angela waited a moment to watch the cellular regeneration begin in her arm- Wynne was finally released. The punctures had stopped bleeding, but were nonetheless painful, considering Angela's lack of numbing agents. Nevermind that, Wynne thought, she was allowed to be back on her feet, "If you're careful," according to the good doctor.

Winston and most of the others were watching her. Wynne stared back at them, meeting their gazes.

"Omnium down, right Winston?"

"After that meltdown, and a reassuring airstrike to be safe, it's confirmed, Captain Wynne. The Omnium is out of business."

"Is the AI dead?"  
"We don't currently know. We hope so, given the inability to broadcast anything at range, and that the entire facility was destroyed, but… we don't know for sure."

Leigh Wynne nodded, definitively.

"Nothing else we can do now but wait and see if the intelligence pops up again. Until then- well. That's your call, Winston."

"I guess so, Leigh. I've been informed that we'll be arriving at Gibraltar in three hours. If everything goes smoothly, we'll hopefully spend the next three weeks there before searching for a target. Good job everybody."


	7. Chapter 7: Overwatch's New Backbone

Captain Wynne marched forward, resolutely, not inclined at all to show the failing control over her own body by making up for it with sheer force of will. Even that would fail, much faster than nanites would, Leigh knew, which was why she was rapping her knuckles against Angela's doorway in the middle of the night. It took three sets of knocks and two full minutes before a sleepy Angela finally opened the door, blinking blearily at her psych patient and most recent saved life.

"What time is it, Leigh? It's too early- late?- for this. What do you want?"

"Something's wrong with the nanites, Doctor."

"What sort of wrong?"  
"Complete failure."

An hour later found Angela bent over Wynne's neck, holding a multitool over the titanium discs, which were hooked up to a new source of nanites. The current ones were in the process of being flushed out and replaced with ones that hadn't been in the field, as Angela inspected the nanites that the captain had been running on in the past four days. Wynne was lying on her stomach, head turned to the left- towards 'Mercy'- on the operating table that she had been saved on some time prior. Angela had to help her walk all the way to the lab- knocking on her door had taken a surprising amount out of her control, and she hadn't the coordination left to walk any farther. It was just as well, considering Leigh didn't share a room with anyone.

"It appears the nanites were damaged in the meltdown. You didn't feel any heat in your neck, did you? Hmm. It's possible that the nanites had failed to fully function in your discs as a nerve, and only as a conduit. I think that the nanites themselves- which aren't as well protected as you, and are exposed to more of the elements- were damaged from the cold, then the heat, then the cold again. Captain Wynne, I'm afraid you're going to have to avoid any extreme stresses or environments- doing anything that might directly affect your neck could disrupt your nervous system."

Wynne said nothing; she had the pride that came with being an elite soldier, a warrior, and having to lie down and be told that she had to be _careful?_ She wouldn't be able to go into the field. She'd be docked- again.

But instead, Angela gave her different news.

"It's too early, Leigh, I need my sleep. I'll get together with Torbjorn and see if there's something I can make for you, but if we make anything about you more… concrete, secure, it'll require more augments. At this rate, I need to focus more research on spinal replacements. If I come up with something, you'll be the first to know. You should be set, Captain. Your previous nanites have been flushed out and replaced with new ones. Come back in a few days and I'll brief you on anything new. Now go back to bed and sleep- I know you wake up far too early and go to bed far too late. Doctor's orders."

Captain pushed herself up from the table, and slid off it. Back to Angela, she peered over her shoulder, and replied, "Thank you, doctor. For everything and anything else." Hopping off the bed and to her feet, she came around the bed and laid a hand on the tired angel's shoulder, giving her that now-you-pay-attention.

"Overwatch wouldn't be the same without you. You remind us soldiers that we're still human."

Caught off guard and surprised at Leigh's thanks and her little speech, Angela gave the woman a timid smile. You hear a great deal about someone both from them and from others; the Wynne she knew would have considered both of those tidbits 'unnecessary.'

"Good to know, Captain. Now go to bed."

[][][][]

As per Angela's sugestion, Leigh strode right back into the laboratory only an hour before sunset, five days later. Both Angela and Winston were in the room this time; Winston using a plasma torch to weld something in his hardware corner- next to one of his armored jump-jet assault suits. Angela was busy poring over a holotable, examining anatomical scans of a human back, including the entire spine. Next to her, one of the portable tablets was speaking with Athena's voice, the feminine AI giving her results of various simulations.

Giving Winston a friendly nod on her way to Angela's side, Leigh allowed herself, just for a moment, to stop being Captain, and just herself. She needed a break; the last couple days had been tough.

A Talon terrorist attack that they failed to arrive before they had left, and Torbjorn scaring the daylights out of her by leaving a Bastion unit he found in her room. Apparently the Swede had found and brought back a corrupted Bastion unit that found most of its interest consumed with wildlife and nature- such as the bird that had fluttered in her face when she opened the door. She had punched the dwarf, and called him as such. He called her a haughty elf, and yelled at her about not being a dwarf. After laughing his stubby little legs off at his prank. Little gnomes are the worst.

She grabbed the edge of a chair sitting around one of the tables and dragged it to the chairless holotable, swinging it around with a flick of the wrist and a little bit of her own momentum, sliding into it as easily and naturally as water. Ignoring the holotable- besides to place her elbows against it and lean, she didn't have any degree in science to understand its technobabble- Wynne turned her violet eyes on Angela. Black t-shirt, white labcoat, and sweats adorned the doctor, versus Wynne's own tank top, and cargo pants.

"What's up, doc?"

"Ah, Captain- ah, Leigh? How should I refer to you, Captain? I never really knew."

"If I'm training, just myself or someone else, or on the field, it's Captain. Here; call me Leigh or Lylla. Same with you Winston, if you want to know."

"Noted, Leigh," replied Winston, who had admittedly perked his hearing up to listen to the conversation, and was so easily identified for it. He was more than a bit embarrassed, even though it was his own lab, and his underlings.

"Alright, Lylla. Since you're here, I'll get you updated…"

Angela took a breath, glancing sidelong at Athena's tablet, which had silenced itself at Wynne's approach, and began.

"The human spine is obviously a major part of the human biology. Breaking it used to be irrepairable, and replacing it was impossible. What I did with you was entirely experimental; you're a walking prototype at this point, one that's done remarkably well. And, I don't think you've noticed, but the nanites that are now permanently in your system- similar to myself- have actually been keeping you from aging as much.

"The nanites in your system are much weaker than my own, though, because they come from an external source- mine are practically part of my biology by now- and are limited to a single area. They're also trying to act as a conduit for the nervous system, and just the nervous system in only one place. They help keep the body from rejecting the titanium- which it shouldn't anyways- but they were built to repair flesh, organs, not act as a wire for your nervous system. So as they burn out, they're replaced. But the nanites you had were getting frozen, and then thrown into your nervous system- and then they were heated to high temperatures, leading to failures in the rapid temperature different. Nanites weren't made to be so durable; just to do a job under moderate conditions. In my case, I use my staff to heal people, but it's more of a brute force- using a magnetically controlled stream of nanites to brute-force their way into someone's system and heal them. You can ask Reinhardt, or Jack- they were often hacking up dead nanites that their body was trying to purge for days after a terrible battle.

"I need to make you something more stable to run off of, or you won't be able to… live, really. Best case I've found so far is to… You're not going to like this. I'm going to have to replace your spine, and integrate a new type of nanite designed to take the sort of strain for being a conduit, and to help heal you. The system will have to run independently, because even though you haven't complained, everyone knows how much you hate having to carry a source of nanites. You don't have to say it- we can all see it. Unfortunately, replacing your spine… it took a couple days to repair a couple severed discs. I'm going to have to take detailed scans of your back, and design everything perfectly. It'll take a month or three, given our current resources."

Angela waited, after finishing. Her ramble- nervous as she was for offering it all up to someone who hated augments as she did- hit all the key points, but nonetheless, Wynne- Lylla, she reminded herself- appeared completely impassive and thus undecided.

Lylla sat with her fingers intertwined in front of her, staring at Angela. She was too lost in thought about the possibility of having to repair her back even more to consider that she stare was making Angela uncomfortable in multiple ways. In Lylla's mind, it was both complex and simple. Many people liked thinking with logic-logic- purely based off of facts. Lylla thought in natural logic- she took emotions and feelings and instincts, rolled it up with reason and logic. Pure logic didn't get the job done- taking a bunch of men through a least-time, darkest path might be the most efficient, but various elements of the path might render most of the team unfit for combat. This was part of the reason why she was a leader- she took everything into account.

Lylla hated augments, but now she's augmented. She still had a job to do, and she had to get more augments, more invasive augments, to finish it, and to continue. Otherwise- she'd be giving up, even a little. And giving up is unacceptable. She'd already come to terms that she'd lost that no-augment integrity, anyways. Adapt and survive, right?

She gave Angela a small smile, and finally replied.

"I'll see if I can't source you some more help, or the proper resources. Write down whatever you really need- for anything- and I'll see what I can do. Same with you, Winston."

Winston grunted again, internally cursing himself for continuing to listen in on the conversation, and went back to fiddling with a shield generator. He wanted to streamline the process of producing and calibrating these things, so he could toss them out wherever they were needed, without a worry of picking it up and reusing it. Also, adding them to suits they already had- that's something Russia was definitely ahead of them on. More than that, a shipment of Russian mechs were coming in- those would be extremely useful.

So, Angela let out a little breath of relief, though she felt her face burn a little about Lylla's constant stare. It unsettled her, seeing the normally… aloof, reserved, _focused_ Captain assigning special attention to her. Granted, they had spoken quite a bit before- as her psychologist, even ages ago and shortly after she arrived- but even then, she was still the _Captain._ Now, she was just Lylla.

It unnerved Angela more than she'd like to admit, even though she was curious to see what else she'd do while she wasn't on-duty. Even as the woman's psychologist, she couldn't ever really get inside her head.

Lylla left her feeling confused, nervous, and anxious, fidgetting at her holotable as the captain left the room.

Some time after Lylla had left, Athena finally spoke up.

"Winston?"

"Yes, Athena?"

"Are you aware that Captain Leigh Wynne has been attempting to open communications with several anonymous sources? Every time she's tried, I have tracked her signals and their communicae, when the contacts go through."

"...I did not, Athena. What've you learned?"

"Captain Wynne has been attempting to source… something. Too much of their conversations have been in code. It is either a large device or some sort of program, by my calculations-"

"Guesses, you mean, Athena?" Winston humorously corrected her.

"...yes. Educated guesses." The exasperation in Athena's voice was apparent.

"Why haven't you asked her about it, then, Athena?"

"...You programmed me to have some emotions that affect me. Anxiety, pleasure, et cetera. In this case, I am exceedingly anxious to speak to her."

"Ah. I'll ask her about it, then." Winston was constantly surprised by Athena- by all means his daughter, something that he created to pass something of him on, even if not biologically or genetically.

That little situation over, Winston turned back to the ablative plating variant on his combat armor, and his own decision of the hour: what was his official rank? And, that being considered, what ranks should others be?

[][][][]

It was the second assembly of Overwatch- the second of the new one, anyways. The first one took place while Captain Wynne was in stasis, after having surgery on her neck. This one featured nearly twice as many people as it did those few months ago, and they had to hold it on the former launchpad- there was no other room in the Watchpoint Gibraltar that could hold everyone. It was at maximum capacity, especially with the new Russian mechs and supplies coming in.

Winston was talking quietly to Commander Amari and Captain Wynne at the top of the ramp leading down to the launchpad; the many soldiers and civilians of Overwatch were mingling down below, after being summoned. Checking his wristcom, Athena's voice emanated from it.

"Winston, it's time."

Nodding to himself more than to anyone else, the two women standing to either side in front of him retreated to flank him. While other members of the old Overwatch had joined, and some other members of other militaries, no one had a rank higher than sergeant, and at the moment, the only really recognized ranks were that of Wynne's Captain, and Amari's Commander. This assembly would change that, Winston knew. He hated speeches, but he supposed he'd have to give one now in order to never have to do it again.

Before he could begin speaking, however, Captain Wynne interjected for him-

"Cadets!"

The conversations- which had already begun petering off- stopped immediately, the civilians darting out of the way as all the trained and training members of Overwatch formed up into rows, special or not. Each at attention, each standing tall.

"At ease, and listen up."

Dutifully, all the soldiers- all of them having been trained by Captain Wynne in the past months- relaxed, taking up the hands-behind-back, feet-spread position. Winston gave a small murmur of approval to Wynne, overwhelmingly reassured and thankful for the friends he had made.

"Ahem. Hello everyone. I am Winston, and I triggered the recall for you all to fight for the world once more. We are still a new organization, despite being made of the remnants of an old one, and my role in it has made me a very important person. Or, uh, gorilla."

Ana took a moment to interject, correcting him with, "A scientist, you mean."

"Ah, yes, thank you, Ana. Now, I know that Overwatch is a military organization, and I have been… neglecting it. I do not have the experience to manage such an organization. So, I have come to a… conclusion. A solution to this, to have a proper chain of command.

"I have never had a specific rank, and I believe it would be wrong to have an officially-recognized rank of the military origin. I am just a scientist, after all. So, I have decided that my rank is that of Overwatch's Overseer.

"Commander Amari, you have always served as a field commander, and a leader of men and women. And so, after much deliberation, I have also decided for you to become an Overseer, to assist me in general management of the Overwatch, and other duties, including your former ones as Commander.

"Captain Wynne, you have long served as a Captain, and fought for the world both as yourself, as by extending yourself through the brave men and women you've trained. After extensive research, I've found that of those Overwatch members you trained, all of them have become shining beacons of humanity, strength, and honor. And so, Overseer Amari and I have decided to promote you to First Commander Wynne. You will operate only under us, as you see fit, both in the field and at home. Your duties are still as they are, with the added addition of authorizing a wider array of orders and promotions.

"Overwatch agents Lance, Morrison, Oxton, Greenmore, dos Santos, Shimada, White, Benedict, Amari, and Wutan are hereby ranked as Field Agents, to come and go from any Overwatch facility, operate in the field, and act in the name of Overwatch, and to call on reinforcements to solve any situation.

"First Commander Wynne, Overseer Amari, and myself will post specific ranks for all members according to Amari's and Wynne's reviews and recommendations. Ranks will operate from Trainee, to Cadet Second Class, Cadet First Class, Agent, Sergeant, Field Agent, and then the various command staff rankings. A detailed list of ranks and all their duties and responsibilities will be posted to the datanet alongside the official listing of rankings.

"And now to the last objective of this gathering. Amari wouldn't stop beating into my head that I should save the best for last, so here it is.  
"Overwatch activities are no longer suspended and are punishable by persecution by the UN. Through extensive dealing with the Korean and Russian governments, as well as our destruction of the Russian Omnium, the UN is going to be announcing the removal of the Petras Act in approximately two hours. Athena will be playing it by holograph here."

There had been little scatterings of applause, whistling, and a couple cheers at the various promotions, but at that- and from Lylla's smile- the crowd gave a cheer!

Having been filled in, the Field Agents approached as Winston turned back to Ana and Lylla. Gathering together, Ana gave them their first orders.

"Gather what you need. The UN's unlocking all the other watchpoints, and I want someone at each one to clear it out and make sure it's clear. Myself or Commander Lylla will be on standby to support any of you should you call. You'll find new communicators in your rooms; stay safe out there."

With that, the veterans and the soldiers alike nodded, and jogged off, each of them conferring to each other as they began deciding on who would go to which Watchpoint. There were well over a dozen of them, and some were larger than others. Gibraltar just happened to be the second largest.

Lylla and Ana glanced at each other, knowing full well that Talon might likely have something up its sleeves.

"Ladies, before you go… Talon has been quiet in the past couple weeks. Either something big's about to happen, or they're waiting for us. We need to strike them as soon as possible."

Ana replied, "Don't worry about it overmuch, Winston. I can tell from your face- we will take care of it."

Lylla interjected, "I'm going to need to get that surgery done, then. Ana, you'll have to deal with anything that comes up for the next half week or so. Winston? We should get started immediately."

Winston nodded, and began walking with her back to the lab. Already, Athena was cluing in the busy Doctor as to their plan; she was already preparing a table for her next patient. Not as if she needed to; she had been moved to a new facility. One that had significantly more than one table…

The thought of needing so many made her sick to her stomach, but also filled her heart and mind with duty and dedication. People may be getting hurt soon, and the first of them someone having her doing the hurting to get better, but at least she'll be here to save them. And that's the best thing she could do.


End file.
